


Rebel Rebel

by secretbeatheroes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Eventual James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, F/F, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Minor Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Period-Typical Homophobia, Racism, Terrorism, and james doesn't really get it, but there's angst, just a lot of homophobia tbh tho mostly just in the first chapter, just mentioned, marauder era, somehow this ended up as James’ perspective, swear it's not all angst, which I’ve never written from??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-17 22:55:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16105490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretbeatheroes/pseuds/secretbeatheroes
Summary: It’s 1976 and there’s a war on. Muggle music, shameless pranks, and one bewildered, cardigan-wearing werewolf shake the foundations of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. James Potter, Best Friend and Prince Among Men, is doing his best to keep his mates in school and to seduce the venerable Lily “In your dreams, Potter” Evans.





	1. The Howler

Peter Pettigrew’s mum, bless her, hadn’t given up on sending Howlers. Pete had stopped minding them around second year; they were a bit of a laugh, really, especially given how creative the threats had gotten since their OWLs. That morning, when a massive owl flew in with a familiar scarlet envelope, James had merely given Peter a thumbs up and continued with his sausages. He barely even noticed when the letter fell in front of Sirius. Chalking the incongruity up to the owl’s bad aim, he reached over and lazily flicked the it open before it scorched off someone’s eyebrows and returned to his breakfast. 

“….SIRIUS ORION BLACK, SCOURGE OF MY FLESH….” the Howler shrieked, causing most of the students in the hall to drop their cutlery and twist around to stare. James felt his sausages sink like congealed potion to the bottom of his stomach. “…..AS THOUGH YOU HAVE NOT SHAMED US ENOUGH YOU ROTTON HORRIBLE BOY, TORTURING YOUR POOR MOTHER WITH YOUR DEVIANT MUD DWELLING BLOOD TRAITOR DEPRAVITY….” 

James felt himself grow cold. He looked at Sirius nervously. She couldn’t know—there was no way— 

“……BEFOULING THE NAME OF YOUR FOREFATHERS WITH ATTENTION SEEKING DEVIANCE, HOW DARE YOU SHAME OUR HOUSE WITH THIS INDECENT BEHAVIOUR, A HALF BREED MUTATION NO LESS, A FOUL HORRIBLE SHIRT-LIFTING MUDDIED BLOOD TRAITOR LUPIN…..”

“That’s quite enough Mr. Black!” said Professor McGonagall, suddenly behind him. With a decisive slice of her wand, she vanished the Howler. James felt it suck all of the sound in the hall with it as it vanished: a few stray ashes fell into Sirius’ half eaten sausages. Neither Remus nor Sirius moved; no one even seemed to be breathing. 

“Pervert,” yelled Alecto Carrow in the delight, and half of the Slytherin table broke into jeers and catcalls. Remus turned white as his porridge. 

“Silence,” said McGonagall, her voice still faltering with shock, “Silence! Twenty points from Slytherin Mr. Carrow!” 

“Finally brought the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black to its knees, have you Lupin!” Snape yelled across the hall. James and Sirius jumped up immediately, wands drawn. McGonagall disarmed them both frantically. 

“Expelliarmus! Expelliarmus! Potter, Black, Lupin, come with me immediately!” she said, her voice several octaves higher than usual. James grabbed Sirius, who was already charging across to the Slytherin table. 

“You don’t have your wand, mate,” James said, his voice short with anger and adrenaline. “Come ON Pads we’ll get him later we’ll fix them, slimy backwards gits—“ 

“I don’t give a fuck about my wand,” Sirius said, struggling against him, “I want to punch that greasy fucker in the nose à la muggle—“ 

“Immediately, Mr. Black,” McGonagall repeated. Remus stood shakily behind her, his eyes fixed on Sirius. 

“Sirius,” he said quietly, “let’s not make this worse than it is.” 

Alecto Carrow sniggered, “listen to your girlfriend, Black,” he said nastily, “or is it the other way around?” James kept his eyes on Sirius as Professor Slughorn finally puffed over to the Slytherin table to admonish his students. Sirius was no longer looking at Snape; he stared instead at the turned back of his brother—former brother?— Regulus. Unlike the rest of the house, the “noble ancient” Slytherin families were conspicuously cold and silent. Even Bellatrix Black was sipping pumpkin juice as though nothing particularly interesting was going on. 

“Bloody repressed nutters,” muttered James, following his gaze. Sirius turned to McGonagall, who nodded curtly and indicated for them to lead the way to her office. Remus slowly made his way over from the other side of the table; something was missing. Suddenly angry again, he rounded on the still seated fourth Marauder.

“Pete,” James snapped, “oi, worm, aren’t you coming?” Peter stood, his pale cheeks flushing blotchily. 

“I… uh, yeah. Coming,” he muttered, joining Remus behind James and Sirius. McGonagall’s lips tightened, but she didn’t object to Peter’s presence. The moment they reached her office she opened a familiar tartan tin and conjured four cups of tea. 

“Have some biscuits,” she said sharply. “I’ll be back in a moment, do NOT leave this office.” The moment she was gone, Sirius turned on Peter.  
“What was that about, Pettigrew!” He hissed, furious, “didn’t want the school to think you’re a dirty queer like us huh?” Remus sighed and put his head in his hands.

“I just.. I— of course not! You know I don’t care you’re— we were all shocked okay! I— I didn’t want to make it worse and what if she owls my mum, she may want me to move ou—“ Peter stopped immediately at the look of warning on James’ face. “What?” 

“Well then you should tell your bigot mum to stop shoving her wand in your business,” Sirius replied, standing abruptly. James grabbed him and looked imploringly at Remus. 

Peter had gone pale. “Don’t talk about my mum, Black,” he said quietly. James swore softly. 

“Moony,” he said, pleading. Remus looked up at him blankly, then turned towards Peter. 

“Peter, don’t worry about that, Professor McGonagall will sort it, you’re not involved,” he said flatly. “Sirius, leave it, you’re not really mad at him.” 

“Don’t tell me who I’m angry with,” said Sirius menacingly. Remus simply sat on the floor and stared at his scarred hands. 

“Mate,” James muttered, “calm down, it’s Moony.” 

“Thought he looked familiar,” Sirius replied coldly. James glared at him. No one ate the biscuits. 

After an eternity of numbed silence, there was a short rap at the door. James jumped up hastily and opened it a crack. 

“Prof—“ he began to say, and then cut himself off shortly. “No,” he said. Remus, still on the floor now with his arms wrapped around his legs, looked up at him quizzically. 

“If you please, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, “I would prefer to not be forbidden entrance to my own office.” James held firmly onto the door. 

“Professor,” he said in a low voice, “I don’t think—“ 

“Mr. Potter,” she interrupted, “We have all had a trying morning. Will you please allow me to do my job.” He stepped back reluctantly, allowing McGonagall to enter the room, followed by the pale slinking figure of Regulus Arcturus Black. 

It had been a few years since James had seen Sirius’ little brother up close; he was taller now, thinner, and his face was slightly blurry in the way that Sirius’ always was when he got back from Grimauld Place. A glamour; James swallowed his surprise. Sirius always had said that even compliance in the Black household was a losing game. 

“Hey, Prince,” he said softly. Regulus ignored him. 

“It was you, I suppose,” Sirius said dangerously, “running off to spy for Mummy like your best-friend, Kreacher.” Regulus didn’t flinch, but gave his brother a mask-like smile that was, somehow, much worse. 

“Mr. Black,” McGonagall said, “please take a seat. In fact,” she continued, conjuring three more chairs, “if you all could take a seat.” 

Remus, James, and Peter complied immediately. Neither Sirius nor Regulus moved. 

“Padfoot,” James said. Why wasn’t Remus saying anything? He looked at his catatonic friends in frustration. It was like he was the only bloody Gryffindor in the room. “Pads, mate, sit down. This isn’t some kind of game.” 

“The heir before the spare,” Regulus said, his quiet voice sardonic. Sirius snorted, almost a laugh. 

“Right you are, Reg,” he said, sitting. Some of the tension in the room diffused, and James let out a long breath. Regulus took the seat closest to the door and McGonagall returned to her chair behind the desk. 

“Well,” she said tartly, “that was totally unacceptable. Not your faults boys. I will write to Walburga tonight….” Regulus coughed softly. “Yes, Mr. Black?” 

He smiled at her genially. “Professor,” he murmured in his most unbearably aristocratic affectation, “my mother is very fragile; prone to fits of nerves. I apologise for the public nature of the letter, I am sure she is just as embarrassed as we are. She meant nothing by it.” James gaped at him. 

“Fragile—nerves—embarrassed—“ he spluttered, turning to stare at McGonagall. “Professor—“ 

“He’s right,” Sirius said darkly. James rounded on him in astonishment. 

“Are you bloody mad,” he began furiously, but Sirius cut him off. 

“My mum’s a crazy bitch,” he continued, eyes fixed on McGonagall, who looked as though she wanted to rebuke him for his language but thought the better of it. “She can’t control it, it’s the incest. At least we don’t look inbred, eh Reg?” Regulus just sighed. 

McGonagall looked deeply uncomfortable. “Still,” she said shakily, “something must be done.” Sirius shrugged. 

“You could declare open season on Snape, it’d cheer us all up a bit I’m sure,” he said. McGonagall glared at him. 

“I will have to be informing your parents, Mr. Lupin,” she said, turning to Remus. Remus looked as though he was going to be sick. 

“Please Professor,” he whispered, “they’ll pull me out of school, I only have my OWLs…” McGonagall’s fists clenched. 

“I have to do something!” she replied, slightly desperately, “this is.. this is unprecedented, unacceptable, ridiculous!” Remus continued to look at her with the same consumptive, tragic look on his face that he had had last year after The Prank. “I… very well, Mr. Lupin, on the condition that you will report any further… cruelty to me directly.” Remus’s lips twitched into something resembling a smile at that. Of course he wouldn’t, James thought proudly, he’s a marauder. Nothing the school could do that would rival the fury of Moony Wormtail Padfoot and Prongs. 

“Yes, Professor,” Remus said, softly as before. “ Please may I be excused?” He glanced quickly at Sirius, who continued to look straight ahead, a muscle twitching on his jaw. 

McGonagall took a long breath. “Yes, Mr. Lupin, but I’m afraid you’ll have to report directly to the Headmaster.” Remus, who had been in the process standing, froze in shock halfway out of his chair. 

“Professor,” James protested, jumping up. In the strain and confusion his voice broke humiliatingly. Peter sniggered involuntarily and immediately shot James a horrified look of apology. James shrugged uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “Professor, he hasn’t done anything…” 

“Mr. Potter, as you would know if you applied yourself less to the earning of detentions you would know that headmaster is not an exclusively penal office.” Sirius’ lips twitched in amusement at the turn of phrase, meeting James’ eye for the first time since leaving the hall. James was so overcome with relief at the return of Sirius’ crude humour that he sank back into his chair. 

“Professor,” Remus said, still sounding panicky, “it really isn’t…” 

“It is a problem, Mr. Lupin,” she cut him off curtly, “and there will be fallout. Professor Dumbledore is expecting you.” 

“The password is ice lollies,” said Peter helpfully. Remus’ shoulders sagged. 

“Wait,” said Sirius, “you can’t make him go without me.” 

“Leave it,” said Remus. Sirius glared at him and stood. 

“No!” he said, furiously, “or do you still want to pretend? Want me to tell the school it’s a lie and that you’re just as _normal _and skirt-chasing as Wormtail?”__

____

____

“Hey!” Peter interrupted, glaring at him, “I…” 

“Sirius not now,” said Remus imploringly. James walked over to stand aside Remus, putting an arm around his shoulders. 

“It’s alright, Padfoot, I’ll go with him,” he said. Remus reddened blotchily. 

“Don’t protect me on his account James,” he snapped. James was taken aback. 

“I…,” he began, but Remus seemed to have found himself because he shoved James’ arm off and stalked up to Sirius. 

“If you think it’s for my sake you stupid tosser you’re wrong,” he said. “this has always been about you and your horrible family and your stupid Gryffindor reputation…” Sirius gaped at him uncomprehending. 

“But,” he said weakly, “I thought… you don’t like the attention… I…” 

“Lily Evans asked me outright in our third year,” Lupin snapped, “everyone knew, you thick bastard, Amelia Bones thought you lot called me Moony because I was always mooning over you…” 

“Handy, that,” James muttered. “We could have been a bit more subtle with the nicknames.” No one paid attention to him— all eyes were fixed on Remus and Sirius. Professor McGonagall looked distinctly uncomfortable. 

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, and Mr. Pettigrew, please wait outside,” she said. Before they could argue, she locked her steely eyes on James’. He gulped. 

“Come on lads,” he said, steering Peter outside and looking expectantly at Regulus. Regulus sighed, standing luxuriously and stretching slightly before he followed them out of the door. The three of them stood dejectedly outside of the classroom, James fretting, Peter flicking bits of lint at the tapestry across the hall much to the indignation of its inhabitants. Regulus just looked tetchy. 

“I have Arithmancy,” he informed them, crossing his arms over his green and silver hemmed robes. James closed his eyes tiredly. 

“Bully for you,” he said. Regulus sighed again. 

“It’ll blow over, it always does,” he said dismissively. Peter glared at him. 

“That what happened to your face then, mate,” he said nastily, “just your mum blowing off some steam?” Regulus continued to look at him impassively.

“Shut up Pete,” James muttered. Peter shook his head. 

“This is all just fucked,” he said darkly. “Utter fucking bollocks. You’ll defend anyone won’t you, Prongs. What if it was me, last year, with Snape, what if..?” James cut him off. 

“We’d have forgiven you, Peter,” he said evenly. “Any of us. We’re brothers.”

Peter snorted, but Regulus finally looked interested. “What DID Sirius do? The Bloody Baron said that he slept in the library for half a term after that business with Severus.” James flinched. 

“Never you mind, Black,” said Peter, looking warily at James. He kicked the wall, causing a painting of three giggling witches to tip dangerously. As the witches began to shriek, Peter’s anger seemed to drain.

“I’ll go to the tower,” he said, “and hex anyone who says anything about Moony and Padfoot.” James nodded. 

“Thanks Pete,” he said, tiredly. “I know it’s been a tough year, mate. You are a brave good man.” Peter flushed slightly. 

“Sure you aren’t in love with me, Prongs,” he said weakly. “May start having to call you Moony.” 

“Only in your dreams, Wormtail,” James replied with a genuine smile. Good old Peter. Regulus made to follow him. 

“Not happening, Princelet,” James said, catching Regulus by his left arm. Regulus snatched it back with sudden violence, as if James had stung him. 

“I am a prefect, Potter,” he hissed. James almost recoiled at the unfamiliar sight of genuine malice on Regulus’ face. “and a son of the noble house of Black. You will not call me that.”

“Sorry, Mr. Black,” James said sarcastically, “or should I call you Lord Black? Been snacking with the death munchers or whatever they’re calling themselves?” Regulus flushed angrily. 

“How’s it taste,” Jame continued, wanting to shake him, “death?” 

“Better than your blood traitor grandfather’s muddy concubine,” Regulus spat, and it was James’ turn to recoil 

“Reg,” he said dangerously, “did you just call my Grandmother mud? Because that wouldn’t make sense if you meant her status, she was a pureblood which I only bring up because it must mean that you are, in fact, referring to our being Punjabi.” Regulus looked a little shocked at himself at this, and James resisted the urge to hex him. Instead grabbed him by the front of the robes and shoved him into the wall. “Oh, little Prince,” he said, his breath short and his face burning, “been listening to Mummy recently have you? Was it you? Did you tell her about Sirius and Remus?” Regulus sneered at him. 

“You really think I would do that to him? To myself? You think Mother cares which one of us is being stupid? I’ll be blamed for this too, Potter, and you know it.” James stared at him; it was the closest he had ever heard Regulus come to admit the situation in Grimauld Place. Regulus had evidently surprised himself as well. He glared warily at James. 

“Fucking hell, Reg,” James said, releasing him and stepping back. “Just leave. Just come stay at mine, you know you’ve always been welcome.” Regulus smiled slightly at that. 

“My parents are a little short on sons, at the moment James,” he said quietly. It did not escape him that this was the first time Regulus had used his first name since the summer after third year— it felt like an apology. A really shitty, Sirius-Black-grade-shitty apology. Fucking pureblood racists. Teach french and calligraphy but not basic decency. With a prick of shame, he realised he was thinking about The Prank. When the door swung open a moment later he had never felt so relieved to see Professor McGonagall in his life. 

Followed by Remus and Sirius, McGonagall looked simultaneously cross and fond; a look James knew well. “Very well, you two,” she said to James and Regulus, “you can go back to your dorms,” James had barely opened his mouth when she offered him his wand and shook her head. “No, the headmaster will have to wait until tomorrow, you have classes and, I’m sure, quite a lot of plotting to attend to.” James beamed at her. 

“Don’t get caught,” she said shortly, “or I shall have to endure Horace’s toast at the final feast this year _for the third time in a row _. I swear, you’ve lost more points than any students in Hogwarts history.”__

____

____

“Ah Professor,” said James with a grin, “I like a quiet life me, I’ll keep my head down. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind and all that.” McGonagall snorted. 

“If I thought it’d be any use, I’d tell you to leave off the house prejudice, Potter,” she said, “these are strange and divisive times.” Regulus stood unmoving beside James, who gave him a gentle clap on the shoulder. 

“Just a bit of fun,” he said, quietly. “While there’s time.” McGonagall pursed her lips but said nothing as James swung an arm around Sirius and walked off. 

Regulus hesitated a moment, and James barely heard him as he turned to Professor McGonagall and said in his smooth, quiet voice, “Professor? I think I may know about the informant….” 

Not today, James told himself. Today would be playing the defence, no use trying to score the quaffle when it was whizzing towards your own hoops. He gave Sirius a squeeze, and Sirius threw an arm over James’ other shoulder. 

“Did you know that McGoogles dated a muggle when she was at Hogwarts,” Sirius said, conversationally. Remus shook his head. 

“Not even five minutes, Sirius,” he said, a tiny grin playing at the corners of his mouth. James gasped. 

“Poor old Dumbles,” he said dramatically, throwing a hand to his forehead, “must have broken his heart!” 

Remus and Sirius looked at each other and dissolved into hopeless laughter. “Mate,” said Sirius through giggles, “Prongs,” 

“..there’s something you ought to know about Dumbledore,” finished Remus, still snorting. 

James knit his eyebrows. “Dumbledore dated a muggle?” he asked, and Sirius clutched Remus to stay up, tears of mirth filling his eyes. “What?” James demanded as Remus staggered and howled with laughter, “What?!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little shameless rule breaking in the sixth year boy’s dorm ft. Bowie, muggle cigarettes, pranks, and magical marijuana. This becomes a Jily fic every time I turn my back I swear to GOD

“So,” Peter said as the three other marauders filed into the dormitory, “uh, should we talk about it?”

“Nope,” said Sirius, immediately crossing to the gramophone and tapping it with his wand. 

_Got your mother in a whirl,  
not sure if you’re a boy or a girl ___

____

“Bit on the nose, isn’t it?” Remus noted wryly. Sirius stuck out his tongue and pulled out a pack of Silk Cuts. 

 

“Fancy a fag, Moony?” he asked. Remus rolled his eyes. 

“Funny,” he said, accepting a cigarette and lighting it with his wand, “really hilarious.” James crossed to the window and opened it as Peter walked over and sat on Sirius’ bed. 

“Got any gillyweed Prongs?” he asked, and James threw him a battered mokeskin bag. 

“Roll us a spliff Master Wormtail,” he said, tossing himself onto the bed as well to take back the enchanted bag and withdraw a few nubs of gillyweed and some packets of muggle rolling paper. Peter took them and set to work as Remus, cigarette clenched firmly between his teeth, withdrew a thick plastic muggle binder from under the window seat. 

Sirius loped over to Remus, sitting behind him and curling his arms and legs around Remus’ hips like a sort of long limbed rucksack. Remus batted him away absentmindedly, grinning as Sirius pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “Sod off,” he said, and Sirius nuzzled his face against Remus’ sandy hair. 

“Quit canoodling, this is serious business—“ James began, cutting off at the delight on Sirius’ face. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” 

“All my business is Sirius business,” said Sirius as Peter and Remus continued their respective tasks, ignoring him. James dropped a sickle into the Sirius Jar and gave a long suffering sigh. 

“Rookie mistake,” said Peter absently as he smoothed down the last crease on the joint. James shrugged magnanimously. 

“The jar’s been a bit empty this term anyway,” he rubbed his hands together briskly. “What’ve we got, Moony old man?” 

“Many ideas, young master James,” said Remus, still flipping through the assorted muggle paper, parchment, napkins, droobles wrappers, and various and sundry other things on which the four had scribbled prank ideas over the years, “some of them excellent, several of them dangerous, a great deal of them illegal.” 

“Ooh, gorgeous,” said Sirius, peaking over Remus’ shoulder, “confund Snivelly’s scales in potions.” 

“No,” said James sharply, and felt himself flush as the others looked at him quizzically, “he’s, well, he’s Evans’ partner isn’t he?” Sirius rolled his eyes. 

“Evans jar,” said Peter. James stuck his tongue out at him. 

“There’s no Evans jar, Wormtail,” he said, peering into a mirror and tousling his hair self-consciously. Sirius knit his eyebrows together and  
frowned. 

“Isn’t there?” he asked. Remus, only half-paying attention, looked up from the binder. 

“It would make her uncomfortable,” he said, “and then she wouldn’t come up to tutor me in potions.” Sirius gaped at him. 

“Evans has been _here _, Moony?” he said, his voice hoarse with astonishment, “in our _Marauder Sanctuary _? Sneaking around our plans? Filching Prongs’ nickers? Reading Wormy’s diary?”____

_____ _

____

“When?” James demanded, his face hot. “When! I haven’t seen her here! I live here! I leave my pants to warm by the fire! You let Lily Bloody Evans, my future wife, see my underthings and the filth on my desk, and you didn’t have the decency to tell me so I could come and be charming in my natural environment and perhaps show off the occasional household spell so she would know that I am excellent husband material?” 

“When you have quidditch,” said Remus mildly. He stubbed out the cigarette on the windowsill and tossed it out. “What do you think of changing the Slytherin password to ‘Severus Snape Is A Gormless Greasy Git’?” 

“I don’t have a diary!” Peter managed to say before Sirius picked up the tirade again. 

“A PREFECT, Moony, do you know the kind of stuff we keep in here?” he fumed, gesturing to the patch of wall that James had transfigured to not look like a massive hole gouged out for holding dungbombs, wartcap powder, and several Zonko’s products that were definitely on Filch’s banned list. Remus rolled his eyes. 

“Has it managed to slip your notice that I am a prefect?” he asked. Sirius wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing a kiss under Remus’ ear. 

“You’re our spy,” he cooed, “a double agent.” Remus pushed him off, grinning. 

“Why isn’t there some sort of jar for _that _,” James complained.__

____

____

“Don’t deflect,” said Sirius, pointing at him imperiously. “Sickle in the Me jar for Evans.” James made to protest, but Sirius cut him off. 

“No buts, rich boy. Pay up,” he said, pointing soberly at the still-slightly-sticky jam jar in the corner. James pulled a face at him. 

“You’re richer than me, Black.” 

“Au contraire,” Sirius countered darkly, “not after today, probably.” The levity vanished from the room as though he’d clicked a deluminator— everyone stopped what they were doing to look at Sirius apprehensively. He gave a forced laugh, “I mean, my entire job as the heir is to marry a wealthy pureblood and make a couple more heirs and I mean, now they know that THAT isn’t going to happen…” Peter shot James a nervous glance. 

“I mean, you could marry me,” offered James, doing his best to sound light despite the sudden dryness in his mouth, “The Potters are in the bloody sacred 28 and we’re loaded.” Sirius smirked. 

“You’re a little bloodtraitory to bear the heirs to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black,” he replied. James did his best to look offended. 

“Bear YOUR heirs, mate? And ruin my figure? You wish. You’ll be popping out Potters in no time, little brown blood-traitors befouling the house of Black.” Remus shot him a thin, grateful smile.

As Peter lit the spliff and began passing it around, the boys set to work, parsing through the leaflets and scribbling new notes. “No, that won’t work,” said Remus, looking over Sirius’ shoulder, “nothing that’ll change the structural integrity of the dungeons, the protective charms are reinforced at the end of each year by the graduating Slytherins, it’s old dark magic.” 

James looked at him curiously. “How do you know that?” he asked. Remus sighed. 

“Honestly have you never read _Hogwarts, A History _,” he said. James, already bored, flapped a dismissive hand at him.__

____

____

“Give up, Moony, you know I’m illiterate” he said. 

They continued to work late into the night until James, his head blissfully muddled by gillyweed, untangled himself from a snoring Sirius and crept into his bed. Remus looked up as he went, and James gave him a little salute. 

“At ease, comrade,” said Remus softly and James blew him a kiss before collapsing in a fuzzy, tired heap. 

…………………..

James awoke, as usual, as soon as the sun began to shine through the crimson curtains that hung over the still-open dormitory window. Whistling softly to himself, unconcerned that he would wake his enervate roommates, James pulled on his quidditch gear and grabbed his broom from behind the door. He strode down to the quidditch pitch, pausing only to wink at an imaginary (single) Lily Evans on the empty stands. Kicking off into the air, he began to fly laps around the pitch. After a particularly dodgy feint away from the announcer’s podium (Evans would have gasped), James flew to the ground and began stretching. If only Evans was there, he thought, she’d have been overcome by desire at the sight of his taut calf muscles. By the time he had finished tossing and catching his bewitched quaffle (to Lily’s swooning delight and the cheers of all his adoring invisible fans) it was nearly breakfast time. Sweating manfully, he mussed his hair at the back and walked into the showers where he did his best not to revisit the adoring image of Lily in a perhaps less-than-respectful way. 

When James stepped through the portrait hole (offering a devilish wink to the Fat Lady), he hoped that he would bump into a certain red-haired prefect on her way to the dining hall. Instead, he found his three bedraggled friends, all damp-haired and grumpy, waiting for him by the fire. 

“Morning lads,” he said, cheerfully. Sirius grunted. “shall we to breakfast?” Remus, who was picking fretfully at the hem of his faded robes, looked up at James and bit his lip. 

“I,” he started, and then closed his eyes wearily. Sirius crossed his arms tightly over his chest and looked away. All the bravado of the previous night seemed to vanish in wake of the reality that awaited them outside of the Gryffindor common room.

James shrugged his shoulders as cavalierly as he could manage and nudged Peter. “Get up,” he said brightly, “or there’ll be no more pancakes.” 

“There are always enough pancakes you twat,” muttered Sirius, “this is a magic school.” Still, he was getting to his feet. James prodded Remus. 

“Really?” he said, “I thought it was a mopey school.” Remus sighed and followed the three of them out of the portrait hole. There was a pause in conversation as the four entered the dining hall. It was short lived, however, and Isola Babbit scooted aside to make room for them with the rest of the sixth-year Gryffindors. 

“Alright, Remus?” said Marlene McKinnon, her voice slightly forced. Though only a few people knew that she was seeing the Ravenclaw Chaser  
Amelia Bones, it was clear she had not slept all night. Lily Evans, studiously ignoring the four of them, cringed at the mention of Remus’ name. 

“Yeah,” Remus replied softly. James watched as Evans’ bottom lip trembled and felt enormously confused. Surely Evans didn’t care that Remus was…. surely she had known? He turned to Remus quizzically, but Remus was focused intently on a roll he was buttering as though it had done him personal harm. 

Cardoc Dearborn, the devilishly handsome Gryffindor keeper, approached and clapped an arm around Sirius’ shoulder. Mussing his hair affectionately, Cardoc said “alright Black? Anyone giving you any trouble?” in his most booming quidditch voice. The few younger Gryffindors who had been giving Remus and Sirius sidelong glances busied themselves with their breakfasts. Cardoc winked at the two of them and then went to join the Prewetts at the head of the table.

Though James had expected nothing less, he felt a sudden burst of pride for his fellow Gryffindors. Even Dorcas Meadows, a very pretty sixth year, came over to give Remus a gentle kiss on the cheek and to tell him not to worry. This seemed to be too much for Evans— she got up, mumbling something about meeting with McGonagall, and James thought he could see tears in her bright green eyes. 

“What d’you reckon that was about,” he muttered to Sirius, who shrugged and continued to shovel eggs into his mouth. Marlene must have overheard because she leaned across the table towards Isola and James. 

“She hasn’t said a word about this whole thing, not even last night,” she whispered. “I think she feels guilty because of Snape.” At the mention of Snape, Sirius and Peter looked up expectantly. 

“What about Snape?” asked James, “she’s not still friends with him, not after..” he flinched slightly at the memory of Lily Evans stalking off in tears after Severus had called her an m-thingy. 

“No,” said Marlene, “no but she still feels, I dunno, responsible for him or something? Anyway she was hiding in the library all day, even skived off of potions. Slughorn STILL won’t let her trade partners.” 

James sighed. He knew that Evans and Remus were close, and that her estrangement would just upset Remus more. He pushed aside his plate and got up, hesitating as he debated whether or not to let Sirius and Remus out of his sight. Kingsley Shacklebolt, catching his eye from across the table, gave him an almost imperceptible nod. Relieved, and swooning slightly (Kingsley! Kingsley Shacklebolt!), James grabbed his bag and told his friends that he’d meet them in Transfiguration. 

Truth be told, he didn’t have much in the way of a plan— he figured he had about a minute before Evans hexed him and ran off, as was their customary interaction. He’d just tell her not to worry about Remus, say that her being tragic around him would only make it worse, and then she’d hex him, and everything would be back to normal. Making an educated guess based on his extensive Lily-Evans-based research, James jumped on a switching staircase and headed towards the library.

When he arrived, James gave a hasty look-around for Madame Pince before stepping behind a stack of books and pulling The Map out of his pocket. Prodding it with his wand, he whispered _“I solemnly swear I am up to no good” _and found Evans’ name curled up, as he had expected, in the muggle-studies section. Tucking The Map back into his robes with a quick _“Mischief managed” _, James walked over to where the love of his life sat in a miserable quivering heap among piles of brightly coloured muggle children’s stories.____

_____ _

_____ _

“Evans,” he said, in his deepest, most Kingsley-Shacklebolt-esque voice. Lily continued to sniff, a curtain of red hair surrounding her face as she hiccuped into her knees. 

“Go away, Potter” she said tremulously. It was with deep discomfort that James realised she was crying. 

“Ah,” he said, sitting down beside her, “er, Evans,” he began. She looked up at him balefully, her face very red and dribbling with tears and snot. James pulled a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket. “Er, _scourgify _. Here.” He handed her the handkerchief and she blew her nose in it loudly.__

____

____

“Thanks,” she said, her voice muffled again. James shrugged uncomfortably. This was not what he had planned.

“Don’t mention it,” he said reflexively. “Er, are you alright?” Evans tucked her head back into her arms and legs. 

“Just,” he continued, “—don’t shout at me— you looked bad at breakfast… no not bad! You looked nice you always look nice even before you’ve had your coffee and you’re grumpy and, un-bloody-fair that is, but you looked…..sad,” he finished, lamely. 

Evans looked up at him again, her nose roughly the size and colour of one of Hagrid’s tomatoes. “It’s nothing,” she said, her eyes filling again. “I don’t have any reason to be…. oh god poor Remus…” she hiccuped, blowing her nose again. You are very beautiful, James thought sadly. I am very in love with you. 

“Yeah,” he said instead. “Yeah but he’s tough and he’s got me and Sirius and Pete. He’ll do okay.” Evans nodded shakily, and James patted her awkwardly on the head. 

“Sorry,” he said before she could hex him, “force of habit, it cheers the lads up, oh bugger,” he said as Evans began to cry again. “Here, _vera verto _” he said, transfiguring something called “Cinderella” into a goblet and filling it with a quick _auguamenti _. He offered it to Evans who took it with a strange look on her face.____

_____ _

_____ _

“I, um,” he said, softly, “I know you’re probably upset about Sniv— I mean Snape, and I wanted you to know uh, I, I’m sorry about, y’know, all of that.” Lily’s eyes hardened and she put the goblet down. 

“Sorry?” she spat, familiarly incensed. James was both relieved and confused. 

“Yeah,” he said, “I mean, er, when he said.. I mean when he called you a… I mean, I shouldn’t have, y’know, goaded him into….” he was babbling now, combing his fingers through his hair uncomfortably. Evans looked surprised, and a bit suspicious. 

“Why grow a conscious now, Potter?” she asked coldly. James gaped at her. 

“Grow a conscious? I’m not a Death Eater just because I like a laugh, Evans, I don’t just go around hexing people who don’t deserve it!” 

Lily rose to her feet, hands balling into fists. “And Severus deserved it? When he was eleven?” 

“I was eleven, too!” said James, standing as well. He was a good head taller than her, and realised sharply that this was the closest they had ever been to each other.. face to face…. in a secluded corner… “I,” he continued, pulling himself together, “I mean… he was prattling on about Slytherin and dark stuff, Evans, he made friends with idiots like Mulciber on day one you know they’re seriously evil…” he trailed off as Lily began to sob again. 

“Oh bugger,” he said, “bugger bugger bugger.” He handed her the goblet of water, half expecting her to throw it at him. She drank from it instead, taking a shuddering breath. 

“Sorry,” she said, so quietly that James could have sworn he had misheard. “It’s just… everyone could see it but me.” 

“Yeah, well,” said James, relieved, “we’re all idiots when it comes to our mates.” Evans smiled sadly. 

“You know, I couldn’t understand how Remus stands you lot,” she said, leaning against the bookshelf. James laughed. 

“He’s just as bad as the rest of us, Evans, don’t let the prefect badge fool you,” he said comfortably. Now this, this was familiar terrain. 

“I mean,” she continued, not looking at James, “when I asked him and he told me that you know, that he’s a, you know, that he has…” 

“A furry little problem,” James supplied, and Evans snorted. Looking surprised at herself, she continued. 

“So I thought maybe he was just hero-worshipping you lot out of, I don’t know, low self esteem or something.” James pressed a hand to his heart. 

“You wound me,” he informed her, and she rolled her eyes. 

“And then in third year when he told me about his feelings for… for Sirius,” she said, looking around nervously. 

“Open secret now,” James said bitterly. Lily winced. 

“Yes, well,” she continued hurriedly, “I thought it was that… and then in fifth year when you, when you saved Severus from…. from you-know…. I realised that you— that you must actually care about each other.” James shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage, doing his best to hide the swell of pride he felt at her praise. 

“Anyway,” she said hurriedly, which suggested that James was not quite as stealthy as he had thought, “I just mean you’re not all bad, Potter,  
and you stand up for the people you care about even if you are arrogant and rude and quite nasty when you want to be and I can’t even seem to… to recognise a… a…. a death eater in training!” 

James looked at her in total and utter confusion. “What?” he said, disbelieving, “what? Lily Evans, who shouted at Head Boy Lucius Malfoy when he called Mary MacDonald a you-know-what in first year? Lily Evans who duelled Bertie Higgs in front of the entire Slug Club just to prove that she didn’t need dark magic to defend herself? Lily Evans who poisoned Mulciber…” 

“Allegedly,” interrupted Evans, who appeared to be fighting a grin. 

“…for imperiusing McKinnon’s kitten, that was sick by the way,” James continued. Evans shrugged uncomfortably. 

“Okay, okay,” she said, “you know what I mean.” James nodded. 

“Yeah, I do,” he said, emboldened, “and like I said, we’re all idiots about our mates. I couldn’t be mad at Sirius any more than… than I could be mad at my left arm,” he finished, inspired. Lily looked suddenly distraught and James could have smacked himself. 

“I mean,” he added lamely, “unless he, y’know, was a death eating git. Um. Bollocks.” 

Evans smiled thinly. “I know what you mean, James. Thanks. I’m done defending him— he doesn’t deserve it anymore. We’re all nearly of age, we’ve made our decisions.” 

James, who had taken in nothing after she had said his name (his name!), his tongue suddenly feeling too big for his mouth. 

“Er… no problem Ev—Lil—uh, mate,” he said, stumbling. She giggled. 

“Watch it, Potter,” she said, her eyes sparkling and no longer weepy, “we’re not friends yet.” Picking up her bag, Lily walked off towards the library exit. James watched her in awe, barely realising she had handed him the empty water goblet. 

“YET?” He called, barely in time for her to hear him as she walked out of the door. A slow grin spread across his face. 

“IS THAT A LIBRARY BOOK YOU HORRIBLE BOY” screeched Pince, descending on James out of nowhere and un-transfiguring the goblet with a  
shriek of horror and fury. “OUT,” she fumed “FILTHY SOGGY CREATURE OUT!” 

Still beaming, James fled, pursued by flying quills and ink stands. Yet, she had said. They weren’t friends _yet _.__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of my energy is currently focused on my main fic, Moony and the Dogfather as well as A Level exams and UCAS applications-- sorry for the delay!

**Author's Note:**

> Regulus literally means "Prince" in latin, arguably in the diminutive, thus 'princelet' and 'little prince'. This work is named after the Bowie song Rebel Rebel-- check it out! Remus is a hot tramp, don't you think?
> 
> Next chapter up: tomorrow! If wifi allows.


End file.
